


An Infernal Infestation

by 3littleowls



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Demons, M/M, Magic, halloween 2015, who you gonna call
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 01:54:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5073364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3littleowls/pseuds/3littleowls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Demons are on the loose in Q-Branch, but a certain double-oh agent might be more of a pest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Infernal Infestation

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween! A sweet little treat to tide you over until SPECTRE (no spoilers!)

“Great, just fantastic,” Q grumbles to himself as he sets a shiny, metallic disc the size of his palm on the floor in the middle of the break room in Q-branch. He sighs as he hears the shattering of crockery coming from the kitchenette.

“Everyone out,” Q orders. Not that he needs to ask twice—most of the boffins scurried for safety when they heard the snarling. Only the curious and the Inclined have stayed to cover him as he sets the trap. He bends to press a red button on the top of the device and it starts to glow faintly. Q darts up and runs for the door. The growling intensifies as he slams it shut behind him and locks it.

“It’s coming,” one of the few Inclined technicians, Bradley, tells them as they gather to peer through the glass. They watch as a sickening, blue-green mist swirls from the kitchenette into the center of the room. It coalesces around the device to form a small creature with an ape-shaped body, blunt wings, and a batlike face. 

“Ugh. Demons are always so ugly,” Mary says, peering behind Q’s shoulder.

“It’s a demon! Of course it’s ugly,” Bradley says, wincing. Q knows he’ll probably have to send him home later; he’ll have a headache just from being near the stupid thing. The demon sniffs the air and comes closer to the device, and Q holds his breath. It just has to get a little nearer before….

The disc admits a bright flash of light. When they blink away the afterimages, the demon is gone. The disc in the center of the room is now a flat color, burned out after doing it’s job: sending the invader back to whichever circle of hell from which it had come.

“All clear. Take the trap to recycling, please. Also, let me know how many charged traps we have left,” Q tells them. “I suspect we’re low, and at this point, we might have to ask an agent to charge some new ones.” 

Once everyone disperses to start the cleanup, Q returns to his office. He is hopelessly behind, his email inbox set to bursting after dealing with the demon infestation all week. He rubs a hand through his hair and starts sorting through the messages marked as urgent. 

He replies to a few emails, but his thoughts can’t help returning to the demons. These kinds of phenomena usually occur in the magical training or testing areas where a higher percentage of inexperienced magically Inclined agents are experimenting with their talents. Even the double-ohs—that are all Inclined—know better than to call demons without a protective circle lest they send them cavorting around Six.

There simply aren’t very many Inclined in the administrative offices and certainly not many of his engineers and developers have the knack. If they do, they’re minor talents like Bradley, who can sense magic—useful for when they’ve made magical devices to assist the agents—but nothing strong enough to cast a summoning. Hell, they need to call in agents to charge up and test many of the devices they made. It’s why the traps have buttons to activate the stored magical power: so that even mundanes like Q can use them.

Q looks up as his door swings open. James Bond saunters in, without knocking. “I hear you have a little demon problem,” Bond says with a small smirk.

Q glares at him. “Minor entities. They break dishes and topple bookshelves and the like. Nothing we can’t handle.”

Bond shrugs a shoulder. “Unexplained supernatural creatures loose in the secret service is probably a cause for concern….”

“Did M send you down? Because if he didn’t, we have quite enough to do, as you’ve noticed,” Q snaps. He’s harsher than he intends to be, but he’s been waiting for M’s patience with his daily demon reports to expire. He really wants to avoid M ordering the Exorcism squad to investigate his labs.

“I thought I might help,” Bond says. He looks a little like a kicked puppy.

Q feels like an ass. “Well...thank you. You can talk to Mary Smithers to see if she has any traps that need charging?” Bond’s lip twitches. Q knows that asking Bond to charge traps is like someone asking him to install Microsoft Office on their laptop. “Fine. We’re a little stuck trying to figure out how they were summoned and why they are hanging around in Q-branch now they are here. We scanned for open portals and there aren’t any. My boffins are not exactly practicing summonings; in fact, the only thing we have down here that can summon a Category Four demonic spirit is the Dante Prototype, which has been under lock and key.”

Bond freezes and steps back from Q’s desk. “Dante Prototype. Does that happen to be about the size of a football? Little screen with lots of little pressure sensitive buttons on the end?”

Q slowly looks up from his computer screen, a suspicion growing in his gut. “Why yes, it looks exactly like that, Bond. Where the hell have you seen it?”

“I might have picked it up off a table when I returned my equipment last week.” Bond has the good sense to try to look sorry.

Q groans. “Why do you always have to touch everything?”

“I’ve been told I’m good at touching things,” Bond tries lamely.

Q snorts and points to the door. “You can leave now—you’re a magical menace. Go.”

Bond apparently has just enough self-preservation to shuffle out of the office before Q loses his temper. Or maybe, Q thinks, Bond’s just run out of regeneration spells he can cast for this quarter.

~~~

When Bond does come back, he’s bearing gifts—a few boxes of Pocky and a packet of Haribo Frogs. Q waves at him to set the food down on a corner of his desk. He’s not sure how Bond has learned about his snack food preferences—simple observation, or perhaps he’s cast some sort of truth seeking spell. Q shivers—but either way the idea of Bond going through the effort is both disturbing and yes, a little flattering.

“Trying to apologize?” Q looks up from his workstation.

Bond flashes that annoying half-smile. “I thought you might need some sugar.”

Q groans. “At least your admission of guilt lead me to download the log files from the Dante Prototype. We’re now sure you released the demons by touching Dante and creating a portal. Since you didn’t exert your will to keep it open, it closed. So when we get rid of the lurking entities that slipped through the temporary door, that should be the end of it.”

“Do you know how many manifested?” Bond asks.

“No. The vexing part is that they all seem to be popping up around Q-Branch. I suppose that’s better than the ballistics testing section or M’s offices, but still, I hate not knowing why,” Q’s fingers inch towards the gummi frogs.

“Is it because the device is here?”

“We put it under a shield. They shouldn’t be able to sense it, if there are any more left about. It could be that the portal opened in the branch someplace, but I don’t think that’s so. We’ve scanned for residual energy,” Q pops a frog in his mouth and chews thoughtfully. 

Bond hums. “Demons are attracted to other things, you know.”Q nods around his full mouth. “Maybe even the staff in the branch. You don’t have many Inclined, but there are other attributes that get their attention.” Bond’s voice drops to almost a purr as he asks, “Tell me Q, do they always make themselves known when you are nearby?”

Q swallows his candy. “Me? Well...yes. That’s hardly indicative, since I’m usually down here.”

“Perhaps,” Bond smiles at him, slow and charming. “But it’s well documented that demons are attracted to virgins.”

Q squeaks in protest and feels his ire rise. “You don’t think I’m...not that it’s any of your business!”

Bond shifts to lean further over Q’s desk, closer to Q. He asks softly, as if they are sharing secrets. “Are you?” 

“No!” Q snaps. “Just because I look young...I’m in my thirties, Bond!”

“So quick to deny it, but age doesn’t have much to do with it. Opportunity does. You work long hours in a basement. You probably spent all your time at uni in a lab. What did you give up, locking yourself away, Q?” Bond asks. “A shy, sweet thing neglecting his youthful impulses, assuming there would be time to indulge later—but it’s later now, and you work how many hours a day here? I don’t think you’ve had a chance to make up for lost time.”

Q stares at Bond, his mouth hanging open. Bond shifts as close as he can with the desk still between them. He can smell Bond’s aftershave—apples, spice and— “Erm,” is all Q can get out.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Bond tells him, his breath ghosting over his cheek. “Old fashioned ideas of purity and virility. The demons care because they’re from the ancient times, but we don’t, do we?”

“No, of course not.” Q swallows so hard it’s audible. Bond’s warmth so near quickens his pulse, fires his blood. 

“Of course not,” Bond repeats. He moves back and Q feels a stab of disappointment.

“We don’t even know if there are any demons left,” Q tells him. Mostly so Bond doesn’t decide to turn away and end their conversation.

“True enough.” Bond studies Q for a moment and instead of walking away he slides around Q’s desk. “There are other demons in the netherworlds. Stronger ones.”

“I think I’m looking at one now,” Q mutters as Bond drifts closer to him, just an inch away with no furniture between them.

Bond laughs, rich and throaty. “If I’m right, you could be in danger. If not now, then sometime in the future.” He cups a hand around Q’s nape, gently resting it above his collar. Q’s skin sears from the contact. “Let me help you.”

Q is about to protest, to proclaim Bond a fool, but he can’t muster the will. He knows he’s being swept away by one of the planet’s best seduction artists, but he can’t seem to care that he’ll be just another notch on Bond’s bedpost.

Bond must take Q’s silence as nerves, and well—he is nervous. His heart pumps hard in his chest. Bond brushes his lips across Q’s cheekbone, too light to be a kiss. Gooseflesh raises the hair on his arms. “I’ll know it’s your first time. I’ll be slow. It will be good, so….”

Something clicks Q out of the little spell he’s in—for a fleeting moment he toys with the idea that it could be a spell—but he’s past the point of caring and damns the consequences. He grabs handfuls of Bond’s lapels and drags him into a kiss. Bond’s mouth is hot and surprisingly soft, and he chuckles as he draws away from Q’s urgent nipping. “Shhh. Slow, I said.”

“My car is in the garage. My place?” Q asks.

Bond kisses him again, teasing. Q almost melts. “Perfect.”

~~~

Q hums a happy tune as the timer goes off and he fishes the eggs out of the boiling water. He plops them into egg cups waiting on the tray next to piles of heavily buttered toast, a plate of sausages, and a little bowl of grapes. He picks up the tray and carries it to his bedroom.

Bond is still sleeping, sprawled on his belly across the bed. Q snickers and sets the tray down before pouring coffee from the carafe. He sits on the edge of the bed and pokes Bond gently. “Having a bit of a lie in, Double-oh Seven?”

Bond groans and opens his eyes, focusing on Q. Q waves the coffee in his vision until the scent of it makes him flip over and sit up enough to take it from him.

“It’s almost ten,” Bond remarks, blowing on the mug.

“Hmm. Yes. Looks like I wore you out,” Q smiles smugly. “I made something for you to eat. Have to keep up your strength, you know.”

Bond frowns at him over his mug and Q continues to smirk—he knows he’s being a twat, but he can’t help himself. “You little shit,” Bond finally says, laughing. He puts his coffee down and folds his arms over his chest. “You lied!”

“I did not!” Q says, holding up his hand. “You didn’t believe me! Your false assumptions are not my responsibility.”

“You weren’t a virgin,” Bond confirms.

“No. And for the record, I wasn’t the second or third round, either,” Q chirps.

Bond rolls his eyes and lurches towards Q, grabbing him around the waist and dragging him back into the bed.

“I’m assured safe from demons, though. Good job, Agent Bond!” Q squirms as Bond starts to tickle him.

Bond smiles at him wickedly as his hands wriggle under Q’s pajamas to find his bare sides. Q squeals in laughter. “Not safe from me, Q. Not from me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Beaubete for betaing, brainstorming and the title!


End file.
